


Puddles

by burritow



Series: Space Between Us [6]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Gen, Happy birthday Lance my son, Lance (Voltron)-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-17 10:21:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15459225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burritow/pseuds/burritow
Summary: Child Lance hated the rain.As a child, he remembered standing on his tiptoes, elbows propped on the windowsill, watching as drops and drops and drops of water fall from the sky until light drizzle turned to storms and storms turned to thunderstorms and Lance hated thunderstorms. They were loud and scary and everything would be dark. And he was always afraid that those lightning thing from heaven would hit him.





	Puddles

**Author's Note:**

> it's july 28 right where I am so fuck everything and happy birthday Lance I wuv u so much bby

Child Lance hated the rain.

As a child, he remembered standing on his tiptoes, elbows propped on the windowsill, watching as drops and drops and drops of water fall from the sky until light drizzle turned to storms and storms turned to thunderstorms and Lance  _ hated  _ thunderstorms. They were loud and scary and everything would be dark. And he was always afraid that those lightning thing from heaven would hit him. 

So he hated the rain. Scowled when he’d feel drops of wetness suddenly on his cheek while he was playing outdoors with his friends. And that too would be the exact moment that their - him and his playmates - mothers would fetch them and bring them home, halting their fun. 

So Child Lance didn’t like the rain. He couldn’t go outside to play, it was dark, and it was loud - especially the hard raindrops against the window.

But sometimes, when the rain was nothing but a light shower, when he was in the same position - standing on his tiptoes, elbows propped on the windowsill, chin on his palm - his mother would walk from behind him and tackle him with a blanket in her hands. Lance then would struggle from her hold, scowl would smoothen down, giggles erupting from him as his mother pulled the chair beside them, sat on it and put Lance on her lap. And Lance was trap, only his head peeking out from the blanket as her mother had wrapped him in a burrito blanket.

And then she’d hum a tune that Lance still didn’t know what the name was. Instead, he settled with calling it “Mama’s Rain Song” and 15 years from then, he was still calling it that way.

Or sometimes, his older brother, Luis, would drag him outside to play in the rain, ignoring their mother’s complaint (but she’d smile then and let them). Luis would jump on puddles to splash on Lance. Lance then would raise his arms to cover his face, but his brother wouldn’t stop until Lance had no option but to 'attack’ him and jump on the puddle too. And before he knew it, he was laughing and jumping on puddles turned into dances and his hair was drenched and sticking to his face and his clothes were soaked but it was fun. And oftentimes, their other siblings, Vero and Marco, would join them. Until they’d hear their mom’s loud voice from a distance telling them to go home. And the obvious scolding that would follow was worth it because he had fun.

His mother was the most beautiful and kindest woman Lance had ever known and would ever know. He just knew it. Gazed up at her when she would dry his hair with a towel - a bit rough and hurried but it didn’t hurt. She wouldn’t hurt him.

And when he and his siblings had dry off, his mother would serve them hot cocoa with marshmallows in them. Lance would always get the most because he was the youngest. He didn’t understand that logic but he wasn’t complaining.

Sometimes they’d talk, sometimes they wouldn't. Sometimes it would be just the soft jazz playing in the radio that would fill their silence. But it was enough. 

Then Lance would look outside from the window, watching as the rain minimized, the clouds already parting to show the slightest rays of sunlight, illuminating the place. Then, a rainbow would show.

And Lance supposed, he still didn’t like the rain itself.

But Child Lance thought that if there wasn’t rain then there’d be no cuddle attacks, no jumping on puddles, no marshmallows on hot cocoa, and rainbows. So maybe he didn’t mind it at all that much.

Child Lance hated the rain less. 

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr](http://burritalks.tumblr.com)


End file.
